


In The End

by Ohsoverysensible



Category: Mass Effect
Genre: F/M, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Resolution, Romance, Some Humor, Temporary Character Death
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-07-18
Updated: 2014-07-22
Packaged: 2018-02-09 11:08:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 14,341
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1980645
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ohsoverysensible/pseuds/Ohsoverysensible
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Everything should have ended, one way or another. But where something ends, other things begin.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. MIA

**Author's Note:**

> AU Where the Normandy crashes on Earth after the Destroy ending. This story will progress through a general aftermath of Mass Effect 3, and will essentially be a happy ending.

He didn't take it well. But then again, no one expected him too.

Then again, no one expected  _this_.

\--

Everything had been surprisingly easy. At first, it was disastrous, with the mayhem and chaos of war left in the silent rubble. The Reapers were finished, destroyed in every way possible. They exploded here or irreparably malfunctioned there...it was terrifying yet glorious to see. But that wasn't all. The world seemed to stop turning as the Reapers fell. Mechs dropped, shuttles sputtered out and crashed, and power went out everywhere. Synthetics dropped to the ground...

But then it was suddenly easy. Almost everything on Earth rebooted, repowered, or restarted. The Crucible and the Citadel were, essentially, useless now, all the energy having pulsed and passed into nothingness. Everything was glitching or malfunctioning, but it all came back to life as the Crucible subsided in a way that no one in the aftermath had expected. Everyone had already begun to panic, but then the problem solved itself. Much like this whole war. And it was finally over.

And everyone knew who to thank.

But there was much to repair. The damage done wouldn't just fix itself like the power. AI's were down, large-scale mechs were down, and many people with cybernetics were experiencing severe health problems. The Geth were MIA, and many Quarians were suffering sudden infections due to suit difficulties. The Mass Relays had spewed out a kind of power no one in the galaxy had ever seen before, and after that they remained dormant, though not destroyed. It wouldn't be as easy to repair the relays as it would to repair Earth, but they had to start slow, and they had to start somewhere.

London was in ruins, and reports coming in from the extranet showed the rest of Earth in trauma. But the extranet-once it was suddenly back in existence-also showed reports of defeat, victory, and success. Whatever had happened high up there in the sky, on the Citadel, had solved it all. 

But the battle at home wasn't exactly won yet.

\--

Everyone was watching him, even the poor unsuspecting soldier who had brought them the correspondence. It had been a week; what had they expected? 

A miracle is what. She'd been through so much already...

It seemed so slow, but in reality it was fast and frightening. His hand tightened into a fist, and his talons dug into his flesh.

\--

Refugee camps and hospitals were set up quickly. There was already a skeleton of resources put together for the miracle that would be their victory. Housing was found for alien life-forms stranded on a planet they'd never called 'home', and support from farms far away from the brunt of the destruction was already coming in. It was wonderful news to many people that Turian and Quarian food was produced somewhere on the planet, because it would be needed.

Being a refugee and being an alien was tough. In the first few days it was hell. Soldiers, civilians, and any personell found it nearly impossible to get the hang of it all. Many aliens requested pick ups, choosing to be cooped up on a ship above Earth than stuck down on it. The Quarians were the first to take off, grabbing any shuttle they could and getting back to their Flotilla. A few ships had volunteered to head towards the Sol System's mass relay, and it was allowed. Though repairs were only mumbled about, the Alliance was grateful to have tech specialists at hand.

But Tali wouldn't leave. She kept herself busy by being the only Admiral left on Earth. She tried to help in anyway she could, and not just with Engineering. But it was due to her expertise that a few mechs were brought back into working condition. They would aid the rebuild of Earth greatly. In the back of her mind, she was already contemplating the Geth...and EDI.

\--

Joker sat down as everyone in the room turned anxious. It was hard to stand in general, but he had a feeling it would be safer for him if he sat. Nearly a week ago, he'd felt the same sensation, only much harsher. He'd had to sit just from a few words... _she's offline_. Joker knew exactly how he was feeling in this moment, and Joker didn't want to watch him.

\--

The Salarian's seemed to think like the Quarians, deciding that their ships would house them much better than a broken planet. They also shared in the view of repairing the Mass Relay as a priority. If they could bring one online again, perhaps the rest would follow. At least that was the hope. A good amount of Salarian soldiers and scientists remained on Earth, however, helping the wounded and assisting with repairs to damaged tech and synthetics.

Surprisingly, many Krogan stayed on Earth. Never having been a race to enjoy being cooped up, they set to work doing as much repair work as their tough bodies could take. Wrex, naturally, led them, and though some of his troops found the work demeaning, they never complained. At least not to his face. 

Primarch Victus lived to fight another day, and his first request was to get back to his fleet. Many of the Turian soldiers followed him, a few ships also being sent off to the relay in desperate hope, but many stayed. With their natural skills for leadership, military, and war, the Turian's were beneficial in finding resources and managing troops and repairs. Their natural hierarchy made it so that no one had to give them orders, they simply helped where it was needed and when.

The remaining Asari were also ready to lend a hand, and biotics. It would be much easier to rebuild with the help of their immense knowledge and power. Along with the Quarians, Turians, and Alliance, some Asari ships were sent to aid in the repairs of the mass relay. Liara set herself up in one of the old hospitals in London, repairing this and that when she could, but tending mostly to the wounded. Her medical expertise was incredibly lacking, but her gift with management-and her reputation as a member of the Normandy-gave her power. With her help, many people suffering with malfunctioning biotic implants or cybernetics were healed and aided.

Earth was strange, but welcoming. With everyone coming together for the war, there was no one that turned away now that the war was over. The battle was won but there was still so much that needed to be healed, including casualties from every race. Stranded here on Earth, where they'd only just made their desperate last stand, these forces remained united.

\--

"It was all I could get," the soldier said again, his voice weak and concerned.

Liara put her hand on the man's shoulder. "It helps," she whispered, though she didn't really feel that it did. She would have preferred better news. Everyone would. The soldier gave a nod before backing out of the room, his head drooping as he went.

Ashley shook her head a moment before covering her face, and James rested his big hand on the small of her back. Liara turned her gaze to Joker, who was sitting himself down with a sigh, and then to Tali, whose arms were crossed and tense.

A glass decanter suddenly went flying across the room. It buzzed past James's shoulder and shattered against the wall, making everyone look up and back away.

Garrus was staring at the ground, his arm lowering from the throw, and he looked as if he were about to explode. "Garrus," Liara said softly, but her voice didn't seem to help. In fact, it seemed to hurt. Garrus launched forward and shoved through everyone as they moved back. Tali started forward, but Liara held her away. "Leave him."

He disappeared behind a door, leaving his team, his crew, his  _friends,_ feeling his pain. A yell of anger erupted from behind the thick metal, and everyone stared at their feet. All this suffering, all this destruction, and there was only one thing everyone could think of. There was only one thing that echoed in their minds.

The words of the soldier.

_There's no sign of her._

 

 


	2. In Memoriam

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Earth is steadily getting back on its feet, but many of its inhabitants are not.

Liara stood at the dock of the Normandy, looking up high at the side of the ship that had done and given so much. The siding was scraped, and engineers were stationed outside already mending the metal here and there. The lettering was scarred, but you could still plainly see the proud name emblazoned on the side. She took a deep breath in, and let it out while slowly lowering her head. This had been her home for so long, and now it felt strange to see it.

"Hey, Liara," came a gentle voice from behind. When Liara turned she saw Ashley Williams smiling weakly, giving a half-hearted wave.

"Ashley," Liara said in greeting. There was a part of her that wanted to give the woman a hug, but all she could manage was a sweet smile and a nod. She'd always found it hard to get close to Ashley while the worked together, but today all biases drifted away and left her with an awkward empty feeling. "I'm glad you could make it."

Ashley gave a bitter chuckle. "I don't think glad is the word I'd use."

Liara nodded again. "True, but it means a great deal to me that you're here." For a moment, they stood in silence, watching each other before looking around their space. They weren't exactly waiting for anything, but small talk seemed difficult, though needed. Neither of them were ready to head into the ship they'd not been on for over a week.

"Is everyone here already?" Ashley finally asked.

"As far as I know," Liara said, looking over her shoulder at what used to be her home. "I asked them all to meet on the bridge. When we head up, they should all be there. I hope."

Ash nodded. "Yeah." Another long pause came and went. "Any word on EDI?"

That was yet another painful topic. Liara had been there when EDI shut down, and she had watched Joker loose his well-practiced cool. He'd left her in her seat on the bridge, powered down and silent. Sleeping, he said. "Tali is still at work," Liara said. "From what I have heard, EDI's AI programming was too advanced for a simple reboot to do her justice. We're all hoping."

"Count me in on that," Ashley said, but then she shook her head. "Hope, huh. Hit and miss, isn't it."

Liara nodded. "Unfortunately, yes."

Ash swallowed hard. "God," she spat suddenly. "I can't believe it."

Liara frowned and stepped forward. "I know." She put her hand on Ashley's shoulder and was surprised when the other woman reached up and gripped Liara's hand. They'd never been the best of friends, but this small comfort was nice. "None of us really can, I imagine."

"I worried on so many other missions," Ashley said. "But this? I felt so...stupidly confident."

Liara nodded. She'd been terrified, but even she could admit that she'd never expected to loose the Commander. "We had been very lucky until that day. Your confidence was not misplaced." 

Ashley sniffled a moment and looked away, blinking her big eyes and trying to dull the tears in them. "Is Garrus up there?" she asked, gesturing to the Normandy in the distance.

Liara blinked. "What?" she breathed, looking over Ashley's shoulder to the shuttle she'd taken to get here. "I thought you were going to get him."

Ashley's face turned pale. "I haven't seen him since the clinic..."

Liara moved past Ashley in something of a rush, a new sense of fear blossoming in her chest. She herself hadn't seen Garrus since that night, and now she was worried. "Go up and check on the others," she called back to Ashley, moving towards a group shuttle. "I'm going to find him."

"Let me come with you!" Ashley yelled back.

"Go to the others," Liara said. "I'll bring him."

Ash nodded stiffly and turned towards the ship. Liara leapt onto the shuttle, which was operating very much like public transit lately, and told the driver she needed to get downtown fast. She knew where Garrus had been staying lately. With all her past talents as the Shadow Broker, she was still adept at keeping track of people. Though she hadn't seen him, she'd been watching for him, and it was about time she checked in. 

A quick message to Ashley yesterday had asked her to fetch the poor Turian. Clearly, the extranet wasn't functioning as properly as it once did.

\--

Before the news, Garrus had set himself up as something like a procurement officer. He was high ranking in the Turian military, so his words carried a lot of weight. He'd been the one to find food for the Quarian and Turian refugees. He gave Tali tips on where to find good Engineers in his outfit, and helped Liara locate medication for the injured. Through moments of weakness near the end of the fight, Garrus had toughened up and taken control, like he always did. He barked orders and threw himself into the flames whenever he could, however he could. His own injuries only kept him down for so long, and he was back in the fight when the Crucible lit up.

And he was hopeful when the reapers blew up. He was proud and he was happy and he waited. He waited for a week.

Now? Now...he was quiet. The news that hit him two days ago had sent him almost AWOL, and a lot of his help dwindled out or was passed onto others. He hadn't spoken to anyone, and though he hated to wallow in self-pity, it felt like he needed this.

But he hated it.

Before the news, Garrus had found an office space just near the Alliance's main control hub. A lot of military bases were destroyed, and old buildings that had managed to stay standing were being repurposed. What Garrus understood as the Parliment building became the main headquaters, and his main living space. He'd taken a room that looked out over the river-though he couldn't remember what it was called-and he spent an awful lot of time looking at the water and looking at the sky.

Both tended to be clear blue. If not full of debris.

Garrus leaned back in his desk chair, holding the data pad a little higher to his eyes. He blinked once, twice, and then finally remembered why his vision was unclear. The drink on his desk was almost empty. Again. He reached for it with a surprisingly steady hand, letting his fingers hover over it for a moment, before finally pulling away. Even this barely helped.

He'd had a drink for her. And then another. And then some more. He said he would meet her at the bar, so maybe that's where she was, waiting for him. And he was here waiting for her. A couple drinks made him feel like maybe they were together, at least to some degree. It felt pathetic, but the idea of her being up there sitting at a bar, surrounded by clouds-or whatever human heaven was really like-toasting him down here on Earth...it felt nice. And he wanted to join in on the toast.

But he may have been going overboard. He didn't expect to find any Turian brandy around, but with his resources it wasn't hard to barter for it off a ship. One of his newly assigned men had brought it to him, and the bottle (which was surprisingly large) was almost gone. Two days and it was near empty. 

Garrus tried to focus on the data pad once more, squinting just slightly and trying to pretend he was pure and sober and dedicated. She wouldn't want this, he knew. She'd want him to be out there barking orders and getting everything sorted, like she would have been doing. But then again, that was all she'd been doing for years. Maybe she would be tired of it...like he was...

There was an angry knock on the door, and it went on for a lot longer than Garrus would have liked. Through the heavy old wooden doors-reinforced with metal and tech, naturally-came a suprisingly stern yet soft voice. "Garrus Vakarian, open this door now."

Garrus's heavy brow plates lowered over his eyes, and he shook his head. "Liara?" he called, turning over his shoulder and staring at the door.

"Yes," she called back. "Let me in."

He sighed and stood up very slowly, heavily, and wobbled a bit. He threw the data pad on the little cot he had by the window. "What can I help you with?" he asked, getting to the door and leaving it locked and closed.

"Open the door and we can talk properly," she said. She sounded...mad? Liara was so often soft spoken that it was sometimes hard to tell.

Garrus hesitated. "If you need something you can always talk to the procurement officer I set up down by your clinic. I think he should be able to help just fine."

She cut him off. "Garrus I can tell you are forcing yourself to speak clearly and casually. Open the door." She banged again.

He frowned and looked down at the floor. His vision wobbled again and he shut his eyes. With some wild flare of determination, and perhaps a bit of annoyance, he unlocked the door and threw it aside. He kept his eyes away from Liara's, though he could feel her staring at him hard. "I need this, Liara." The words didn't sound like his own.

From his peripherals he could see her shake her head. "No, you need friends." She swept passed him before he could say no. "You can't stay cooped up in this room forever."

"It's been two days," Garrus said indifferently. It felt like so much longer to him, but he wouldn't tell her that.

Liara spun around and stared at the Turian as he stood by the door, slumping slightly and looking somehow smaller. Garrus had always towered over her, and he always looked sturdy and strong. It wasn't just because he was out of his armour, wearing a simple suit of blue and gray. He looked beat. He looked small. And no matter how chipper or sarcastic he made himself sound, Liara could see he wasn't alright.

"Precisely," Liara said. "It's been two days. No one has heard from you."

He turned his head away from her as far as he could without turning around. He stared out a smaller window on the wall as a skycar flew shakily by. Something was still smoking somewhat in the distance. "I haven't heard from anyone either."

"Don't turn this around," Liara spat. Well...as much as she  _could_ spit. Her face, when Garrus finally looked at her, was wide and open as always. But there was an intensity in her eyes that seemed to break him. She didn't look angry or disappointed, she looked concerned. And that worried him more. The last thing he wanted was pity, but he was bringing it on himself.

Garrus sighed. "I didn't mean to say that...What I meant was..."

"I know what you meant," Liara said, dropping her tense shoulders and shifting her weight. "But for what it's worth, I  _did_ send you a message." Garrus stared at her, waiting. He hadn't really been looking at any of his messages, and the only way he'd kept his platoon going was through direct correspondence with a Captain he'd left in charge. His friends...he hadn't been keeping up on his friends.

"We're having a memorial," Liara said slowly, watching him closely. "On the Normandy. I sent a message out, and from what I got back, it looks like everyone can make it down."

He hadn't changed position, and he hadn't stopped looking straight at her blankly.

"As a matter of fact," she went on, "they're all there waiting."

Finally he made a noise. A hard gulping sound in the back of his throat. It almost seemed to buzz, and Liara wasn't familiar enough with Turian biology to know what it meant. She guessed it was fear.

\--

It took less convincing than Liara expected to get Garrus to leave his comfort zone. She waited patiently as he donned his armour, scratched and dented as it was, and soon they were leaving the old building and heading for a shuttle. It was rare to find someone outside that wasn't decked out in protective gear. Though the war was over, everyone who was a soldier remained as such. There were only a few military personal who had changed back into fatigues or something that resembled civilian wear.

Liara had been one such person. As soon as she was able, she left her armour behind and changed into her-unfortunately stained-white and blue suit. It was easier to move, and it was easier to look comforting when talking to orphaned children or wounded civilians. Not many people shared her view, Garrus being one of them. It had actually shocked her when she'd come into his room to find him casually dressed. To her, it was actually more of a bad sign.

Everyone was on the Normandy already, and no one said anything specific to Garrus when he arrived with Liara. She watched him act normal and serene, mourning the way everyone else was, though everyone knew this meant much more to him. The couple had tried to keep it hidden for so long, but close quarters brought whispers and rumours. And surveillance camera's brought truth.

Everyone stood by the elevator on the crew deck, a semi-circle having formed around the memorial for those lost in the fight. Samantha and Steve had even joined the group, talking quietly to each other as everyone settled down. Some of the Normandy crew hadn't seen each other since the final push, and it was comforting to Garrus to listen to them absently catch up. James and Ashley spoke to each other of their recent trials trying to help rebuild, and Garrus could hear something like a secret familiarity in their voices.

Tali, he discovered, had been working on the Normandy for a few days. Listening to her speak to Joker, he learned that a desperate attempt to bring EDI back online-unshackled and un-erased-was proving difficult. When he cast a glance at Joker, he saw something of himself there that he didn't like.

When Liara pulled away from the group, and the room became quiet, Garrus tightened his hands by his side. She walked towards the wall and reached out a tentative hand, brushing across the new name that was shining in the centre. Admiral Anderson, it read, and everyone seemed to share a moment of silent appreciation for his courage and determination. Then, Liara moved her hand down to another name...Kaiden Alenko.

With a sigh, and a good amount of hesitance, Liara turned and looked across the morbid group. "Thank you all for coming," she began. "I appreciate that you could all take the time. And I know we're all living in busy situations."

"Of course we'd come," James called from the back of the group, and it sparked a few gentle smiles.

Liara let her own lips twitch upwards slightly. She took a steadying breath and cast a quick glance back at the wall. "There was a chance for many more names to appear on this wall," she said, looking back at her team."We faced many dangers, both with this war, and with our own lives. Never let it be said we were all simple people before this war broke out." This earned Liara a few more little smiles, though there were a lot of blossoming tears.

She swallowed stiffly before going on. "Though we have lost dear friends, and strong allies, this wall could have been burdened with names. We owe the vacancy of this board to one person, I believe. We all fought hard, and many people not present here today fought alongside us. But there will always be one person who...without her...We never would have made it this far."

Someone sniffled, but no one dared move an inch.

Liara looked at her hands a moment before continuing. "Sadly...though this wall behind me is not full, today we must add a name that we will never forget." She hesitated unwillingly, and looked through the faces of the crowd she addressed. Friends...family...

"Commander Shepard brought us all together, and kept this wall so empty," Liara said proudly. "Many people will never truly understand how much she did for us, doe this planet, and for the galaxy. Today we honour a leader, a fighter, and a friend."

Now, many faces were turned down, and many eyes were damp including Liara's. She gave a brief glance to Garrus, who's eyes were focusing intently on the floor between his feet.

Liara gritted her teeth and kept her focus, kept her fire. She didn't want to cry here, not when many others seemed to need a strong shoulder. "Ashley," she said softly. "Will you please do the honours?"

Everyone shifted in some degree to look at Ashley, who held a long plaque in her hand as she stood between James and Garrus. It was clear a few tears had gone down her cheeks, but she wiped them off and stood up tall and straight. She looked tired and sad, but then again so did everyone else. She held the plaque tightly for a moment, staring down at the name with shaky breath. 

They'd never been best friends, but they'd been close. Ashley knew there was little Shepard would honestly tell her, but Ash was sure that she could have spilled her darkest secrets to Shepard without a second thought. Shepard had always beem more open minded about the galaxy than Ashley. They'd discovered this early on in their friendship. But they'd shared the slightly girly things that sometimes they had to repress. And they were tough, stubborn, and determined. They worked well together, and Ashley felt as though Shepard was the big sister she'd never had.

And that's why the name on the plaque hurt so much to see.

Before taking a step forward, Ashley cast a quick look around and noticed, to her horror, Garrus looking down at the plaque as well. She could tell he was tense, and when he realized she was watching him, their eyes met. In an instant, Ashley knew what she should do. She held the plaque out to him.

Garrus leaned away as if the plaque were a dagger. "No," he said stiffly, trying to force some horrible chuckle into his voice. He stepped back and raised his hands in something like defence, shaking his head.

"Are you sure?" Ash asked, still holding the plaque out to him. The crew that circled them kept their eyes off the exchange, though the moment brought even more silent tears to the crowd.

Garrus cast another look down at the plaque in Ashley's hand. Her fingers covered some of the letters, but he could see the S-H-E-P, and it already stung. But his hands seemed to act against his better judgement, and he reached forward and let Ashley slide the name into his grip.

He took a small step toward the wall, staring down at the plaque in his hands like it was her. Like this was the embodiment of the woman he'd lost. The crew behind him was bustling with a stressful energy he could feel even with his back turned. Samantha was now in quiet sobs, and tense gulps were heard at regular intervals.

Liara slunk back into the group as Garrus stepped towards the memorial wall, all the while looking down. He ran his thumb over the name, wishing she could be more than just a little metal plaque in his fingers. He took a deep, steadying breath. "Have a drink on me," he whispered.

Garrus lifted his arms slowly and placed the plaque under Anderson's. He pushed his hand along the length of Shepard's name until it stuck, perfect and immortalized, on the wall. When he stepped back to take it in, the sight nearly brought him to his knees. Maybe it was the drink still in his system, or maybe it was just the stress finally catching up to him, but this felt like it. The news of her disappearance and the absence of a body for over a week only _now_ felt real. It felt over.

Staring at her name on this wall made Garrus realize that he'd had hope. And now it was gone.


	3. Taking It Poorly

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Normandy crew knew each other well, but there would always be things that they didn't expect. Now instead of comrades, they were friends, and sometimes friends surprised you.

It was strange to be aboard the Normandy as guests. Well, not exactly guests, but not exactly crew members either. While the ship was docked, there was nothing for many of the past crew to do but live their own lives as best they could. There were no missions anymore, no more late night chats in the halls or in their bunks. Even the lounge, set up with snacks and drinks that Liara had hastily put together, felt strange. It was no longer a place of relaxation or distraction, but a reception hall of misery.

This was the room Shepard had found Ashley laying in drunk. Ash would always look back on that memory with a mixed sense of embarrassment and humour. Now, as she held her small drink in her hand, she found it hard to consume. The memory of her drunken antics wasn't the only reason she found drinking so difficult. It was because Shepard wasn't the one who had poured it for her. They'd gone head to head on the Citadel only weeks ago, and now here she was without her giggling partner in crime. They always knew how to blow off steam, and Shepard could always keep Ashley in check to some degree. She hated to admit it, but she'd miss her chaperone.

Everyone in the room had some fond memory of the woman they were here to mourn. For James it was their little spars down in the shuttle bay. Shepard always made it about him, about opening him up and getting into his head. And James had never minded. Looking back on it now, he realized that the combination of fighting and battling made it easier to speak about emotional subjects. It actually made him smile. Shepard was clever.

Joker had similar feelings. He and Shepard were always so talented at jokes and teasing and taunting, and she'd told him once that he could always cheer her up with his humour. They bickered like an old married couple sometimes, but she had a way of making him see the good in things he never could see before. Any time he was pessimistic, she was upbeat. She always believed there was a resolution for everything, a way to fix even the greatest of problems. Damned if she wasn't right. Joker only wished her accuracy hadn't taken her life.

For Tali, Shepard's friendship would always feel like protection. Having been so young and somewhat naive when they first met, Tali would never forget the way Shepard had taken her under her wing. She vouched for Tali in situations, in a world, where a Quarians weren't taken seriously. She taught her more than Tali had ever expected to learn on Pilgrimage. She'd never forget the adventure, and how no matter the danger, she somehow always felt safe with Shepard aboard the Normandy.

Liara would remember her saviour, her comrade, her friend. Like Tali, Liara felt as if she owed much of her own personal growth to the time she spent aboard this ship and with the Commander. Shepard had broadened her mind and helped her look past her research to find power within herself. Liara had always considered herself something of a bookworm, regardless of her biotic prowess. Traveling with Shepard had unleashed a kind of confidence she'd never had before. Liara owed Shepard much of her life, and wished she could at least give her some of it. If there was a way to transfer some of Liara's years to Shepard, she would do it in a heartbeat.

Everyone had memories, and everyone dwelled on them in the Normandy lounge. The old crew sat here and there, talking and catching up as best they could, all while surrounded by a kind of muted sadness. The memorial had been a good idea, and everyone was surprisingly cheered to see each other, but it was still difficult.

Garrus sat at the bar, nursing the one drink James had passed him. He'd patted the Turian on the shoulder before walking off and giving him some much needed solitude. Garrus had to admit that he was almost sick of the loneliness, but there was something sitting at the bar that he was immediately drawn too. It wasn't the one she was wearing in the end, but it was one she'd worn; one of Shepard's N7 helmets. It sat, clean and unscathed, next to a tall vase holding three simple flowers. Garrus didn't know what they were, but they were white and they were fragrant.

He'd never asked Shepard what her favourite flower was. Or her favourite music. Her favourite anything. He'd guessed a lot of the little traits he wished now he'd known as a fact. How little he really knew about the woman he loved haunted him in this moment. He knew her eagerness and her positivity...Garrus would never forget her perseverance and kindness in everything she did, or the way she called him out on his anger and tried to calm him.

When he first came aboard her ship, years ago, he had been a vengeance hungry, prideful young Turian with very little hindsight. The way he spoke about rebellion had sparked her concern, and every time they spoke he saw anew that perhaps there was more than fighting and anger and revenge. The effect she'd had on him led him to his vigilante justice, but it taught him mercy. She reminded him of that every time they met, every time they spoke, and he owed her.

He owed her the feeling of innocence he had at night. Without her intervention on many occasions, Garrus's conscience would be filled with guilt and regret. He had learned early on in his life that his anger always ended in mistakes, in embarrassment or shame, and Shepard had helped him keep his head when the fires in his chest grew too hot.

Her absence now scared him. What would he do without her?

Someone sat down beside him and leaned on the bar, matching his slumped position as the rest of the memorial party chatted in the distance. "I'm glad you took the plaque," Tali said, staring at the rather full glass she had in her hand.

Garrus looked over and managed something akin to a smile. "Doesn't feel like cause to drink, does it," he mused.

Tali shrugged. "Maybe. But this type of drinking would be better suited for celebration. I don't feel like celebrating right now."

"Though the war is won," Garrus said, casting a brief glance at the helmet next to Tali's elbow.

She nodded very slowly, seemed to contemplate her glass, and then sighed. "Though the war is won." Tali turned and looked at Shepard's helmet, her shoulders slumping a fraction more. But then, to Garrus's interest, she gave a chuckle. "Shepard always hated this helmet. It's why she never wore it."

Garrus perked up slightly, though he wasn't sure why just yet. "Why is that?" he asked. Tali reached out and poked the visor of the shiny thing before turning back to Garrus. This close he could just barely make out her face past her suit.

"She said it obstructed her view," Tali said. "When I brought it to her with some upgrades, that's what she told me. That the visor was too low and it obstructed her view." She chuckled softly again and Garrus felt himself sit up a little straighter.

"You know she always wanted one of your eye pieces," Tali went on, pointing to Garrus's face. "But I told her that it was a little too dangerous. Walking around with that fleshy face of hers."

Garrus actually chuckled, and Tali felt proud.

"She never did like helmets in general," Garrus finally mumbled. "Every chance she got she would take it off, even in the middle of a mission."

Tali nodded and smiled under her visor. "I know," she laughed. "One time she even left it behind and said she didn't have time to put it on."

Garrus leaned on one elbow and turned to face Tali head on in his seat. "You know, I remember that," he said. "I kept a particularly watchful eye on her that mission. Never really had to worry though. She was a good shot."

"Almost better than you," Tali said. Garrus could see her bright eye wink. "She always took you on missions."

Garrus laughed lightly, something more like a sharp exhale through his nose. "I never got shore leave."

"Like you would have it any other way," Tali scoffed.

Garrus sighed and looked down for a moment. "No. I wouldn't have had it any other way." The past tense made the calm moment turn back towards unease, and Tali turned her face away. She'd walked over here with the sole purpose of talking to Garrus, trying to flesh out just exactly how he was. She was pleasantly relieved to see he wasn't as broken as she'd feared, but the seriousness and the sadness could still be heard in his voice if not seen on his face. She could never read his expressions as well as she'd like to.

"You know, she had a picture of you in her cabin that she would change if anyone walked in," Tali said softly, leaning towards Garrus just a little bit more. He turned towards her slowly, but that was enough for her. "It was a photo of the two of you, actually. I don't know if you remember when...when Kaiden was walking about the ship snapping shots of everyone."

Garrus tilted his head. "I vaguely recall that. He told us he liked to make old fashioned albums because his family used to."

Tali nodded. "Well, he took one of you and Shepard, long ago, before..." _Before anything started_ , Tali finished in her head. She had a feeling Garrus finished the sentence in his mind as well. "She never meant for me to see the photo. I think Kaiden was probably the only other one who saw it. But she's laughing, and you're looking at your feet. When I saw it in her room a few weeks ago...I knew that...that moment Kaiden captured was the moment it began for you two."

Garrus turned away, and gave a pitiful little forced laugh. He didn't want anything to happen to his features-his eyes in particular-that would make Tali put a hand on his shoulder, and so he tried to enjoy the reminiscing without the sadness. But this story helped.

And it hurt.

"Wish I'd seen it," Garrus mumbled, though again it felt as if his words weren't his own. With so many others mourning around him, it was becoming easy for him to get lost in the memories and the honesty. He looked down at his full glass. "Sounds like quite the photo."

"I don't know where it is," Tali said sadly. "I suppose it would still be in her cabin but..." She looked at Garrus as he kept his eyes down in the liquid of his glass, absently thinking. She wasn't sure if Shepard's cabin was off limits, or whether it had been emptied already, but there was a part of her that felt it would be a mistake to go up and look.

But then there was a part of her that thought it could be good.

\--

No one seemed to notice they'd slipped out. The elevator ride was quick, and silent, but when the doors opened Garrus and Tali were faced with a blinking green lock and a very quiet ship. The efficient engine of the Normandy didn't hum in the background, and all they could hear were their own footsteps and the buzz of the lights.

Tali listened as Garrus took a deep breath in. "Feels kind of unreal, doesn't it," he said as he left the elevator.

Tali pattered close behind him. "Like it was only yesterday."

Garrus stopped in front of the closed door and gave a very bitter snort. "It almost was." He reached out and tapped the glowing panel, sending the door whirring and sliding open. The sight was so painfully familiar and fresh that Garrus almost expected to see the back of Shepard's head sitting at her desk. Or maybe on her bed, reading. She liked to read when she had time. Kasumi would loan her books way back when.

With a sigh, Garrus took a step into the room. The smell hit him like a cruiser, and for a moment he paused. It smelled like her, like a life. It was cold and metallic and mainly impersonal, but it was her space. He remembered her talking about the decor she liked one tipsy night, laying in each other's arms. She'd spent her whole life bouncing between Alliance ships and posts. Garrus smiled slightly as he remembered her longings for softness, and for a permanent place somewhere in the world.

On any world, she'd said.

"Was this...bad?" Tali asked, coming to stand beside Garrus as he hovered just past the door.

He shook his head and kept looking around. "No," he said quietly. "No it's..." He didn't know how to explain it. He could feel himself on the precipice of happiness and depression, and he was waiting to see how the scales would tip.

Everything was as she'd left it, if not a little messy. Her computer terminal was over turned, laying on its screen, and one of her ship models had fallen to the floor and snapped. Ironically, it was the Normandy model. The bed was as untidy as it ever was, and a shirt lay just slightly peeking out of the floor of her wardrobe. The crash had done a lot of this mess, and it appeared no one had tried to clean it up. Garrus thought he and Tali were probably the first people in here since it all ended.

Tali moved towards Shepard's desk slowly, reaching for the medal of honour that had toppled to the ground. "We should put this on the memorial wall," she said, lifting it up and straightening it in its case.

Garrus turned and stared at the little golden object. "We should give it to her mother," he said gently, and Tali gave a nod before setting the medal back on the desk as if it still belonged there.

She reached for an overturned photoframe and lifted it up. A faint picture sizzled into the frame, and Tali grinned behind her mask. "I didn't see this one before," she said, holding the frame up for Garrus to see. "She must have a few loaded here."

He came towards her and held the frame as well, each of them having one hand on the cracked thing.

The photo on the screen was of a younger Shepard, standing on the Citadel looking somewhat awkward with her family. Mother, father, and younger brother Garrus rarely heard of. She must have been a teenager, and unenlisted. She wore such casual clothing, and her hair was long and down. It actually did cheer him slightly.

"Well, I like this shot too," he said, hearing Tali give a gentle little laugh. She reached for the screen and gave it a tentative tap, and the picture changed.

They were standing by the Mako, Garrus in his C-Sec armour and Shepard in her fatigues, and the lighting was poor. In the back of his mind, Garrus was vaguely aware that the person behind this photo was also gone. It was a strange sensation to know that there was only one person involved here that still remained standing.

Garrus had his arms crossed in the photo, leaning his back against the old beast they'd called ground transport. He was looking down, but this older and wiser version of himself could see the amusement in his face. Shepard was laughing, her arms crossed as well, but there was an openness to her face that he would forever connect with her voice. Staring down at this picture, he could hear her chuckling at him.

He couldn't remember what they were talking about or what had been so amusing, but it didn't matter. All that mattered was that this was a simpler time, an easier war, and a better life. It was always better with her. Meeting her on the Citadel, helping her take down Saren, finding her again on Omega, helping her defeat the Collectors. Them Palaven and the Reapers and...

Garrus let go of the frame and stepped back, lifting one hand to his eyes and shading them with a sigh. Tali stepped back as well, setting the frame down. "Garrus?" she said nervously, feeling her own throat tightening with tears.

But Garrus just shook his head. Tali moved further away from him as he pulled the desk chair out and practically fell into it with another hard sigh. He kept his eyes dry and his emotions in check, but something inside him felt like it was snapping. He leaned on his knees and just kept shaking his head, over and over again, until Tali began to regret this move.

She slowly backed around him and headed for the door, watching as his hands gripped his knees far too tightly. When she reached the elevator, it opened to show Liara's concerned face. Tali jumped back. "I...I thought it could be good for him..." she stammered, and Liara moved past her silently to stand in the cabin's doorway.

It was about time. It was all Liara could think in the face of a friend in need. It was about time he let himself be. Drink and isolation could only do so much. As worried as she'd been, this is what he'd needed. Being here in her space was a kind of closure Liara now knew he should have been given mere days after her disappearance.  

"Leave him," she said quietly as she turned back towards the elevator. Tali hesitated, but gave a nod and a quick glance back. She could just barely see the crests of his head before she followed Liara to the elevator.

"Are you sure we should leave him alone?" Tali asked as the doors closed on them.

Liara gave some sort of knowing smirk as she stared straight ahead. "He'll find his way back down," she said.

He would find his way eventually.

 


	4. Only Rumours

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes, strange things happen to good people. Sometimes, moving on helps you see what is really important. Sometimes, hope is the only thing you can hang on to. Sometimes...it takes two weeks for the high-tech failsafes of cybernetic implants to reboot.

Stonehenge had collapsed along with much of the area around it. Many of the small homes built near the historical area were destroyed or damaged, toppled over and mingling with bodies of reapers. Marauders, husks, cannibals...even ghastly destroyer ships littered the English countryside. It diminished the beauty, even though the sun cast a kind of warm pink as it rose above the horizon. The bodies of fallen enemies, as well as fallen comrades, darkened the cool quiet morning that should have been. It was nice that, in a world of tech and high speed advancement, some things had stayed the same. The grass was green, the trees were tall, and the signs of civilization were surprisingly sparse. Little houses lined hills that had been empty for centuries, but the country still echoed with the kind of comforting emptiness a trip away from the city could bring. The air was only slightly smoke-filled, and many of the country homes were damaged or vacant, but off in the distance a shuttle of troops scanned the rubble and it was otherwise quiet.

Through the bodies and the stones, the dirt and the crashed ships, the endlessly scrapped landscape, and the quiet rising sun, someone took a sharp breath. The soldiers in the distance would never have heard it, and nor would they have caught the sounds of little stones falling away from a shaking body, but the sounds seemed incredibly loud to the person waking in the damage.

Her hands and legs were shaking, but as were her stomach and her lungs. It felt like her entire body was convulsing, maybe collapsing, but she raked in breath after breath as if she'd been submerged in water for far too long. He chest burned, and her exposed skin was dry, but she was moving and blinking and  _living_. 

With something like a choked shriek, Commander Shepard stared into the blue-ish sky above her and started to chuckle. It was a pained laugh, a bitter and very unnerving sound, and soon her strange giggles turned into tears. She could feel the wetness running down her stained and bloody cheeks, but as she lay there in the rubble she felt a sense of pure joy, regardless of the pain she was waking up to.

She was alive. 

She could remember it all. The Citadel, the Illusive man...the Catalyst. And her choice. Somewhere in the back of her mind she felt fear and sadness creeping into her system. She hadn't had the time to process much of anything in her final moments, and the memories flooded her suddenly revived brain like visions. Shutting her eyes tight, she moved her arm as if it carried the weight of her entire body, and hugged her broken ribs. She could sense the damage in her body as if she were diagnosing someone else.

She couldn't think of what she'd done, or what she'd chosen, or how it had all turned out. All she should be doing now, she realized, was trying to get up. And get help.

Her fingers came in contact with blood the moment they wrapped around her side. There was a wound there she could feel gushing a terrifying amount of liquid. Her voice was a rough, patchy groan. but it seemed to be the only sound she could make.  She gave off squeaks and muted cries as she struggled to lift herself into a sitting position.

Shepard could hardly take in the damage around her. There was too much of it for her woozy eyes to really acknowledge. There was a chunk of something that was either metal or rock over her foot, and to her surprise she easily manoeuvred her leg out from under it. Her body was still quivering, full of energy that felt like it was trying to break through her fragile exterior. She had this tingling running through her limbs but she still felt weak. It was a strange sensation, but it spurred her on.

Crawling over rubble, feeling the wound in her side drip with every move, Shepard tumbled down into a shallow hole. It had been left imprinted in the ground by the body of the Reaper that now lay in her view. With a groan she rolled back onto her side and yanked herself forward on one arm. Grunting, she pushed herself to her knees and balanced poorly. The reaper was a small one, as small as they could be, and over it's docile form Shepard could see the sun rising.

And then it hit her. The reaper was dead, laying in a worse state than she was. It almost made her smile again. Had they won? Was it all over successfully? But she couldn't think on that. The pain was starting to grow in her side, and her head was clearing of its prior adrenaline and pooling with fear. 

It took her a great amount of effort to clamber out of the little hole, but once she did she stumbled around the reaper over somewhat clear land. It was hard to walk, and she knew it would just get harder unless she found help.

Far off by the sunrise, she could finally make out the image of bodies. Living bodies, moving and scanning the area, maybe talking or shouting orders. A shuttle was parked nearby them as well, and Shepard's heart started hammering.

Her next step forward brought her left leg crumbling beneath her. She gasped and fell to her knee, but she had to get their attention in the dim light.

Her armour was near destroyed. How she had survived, she didn't know. She could barely remember anything after the explosion. But on her right side she could still feel a small little pack, and she knew what would be in there. As swiftly as she could, Shepard reached past her jagged armour and into the little bag, feeling three or four small tubes greet her fingers. She grabbed one out, and fell to her other knee, kneeling in the dirt and the grime.

One swift rip, and the flare went up like a firework. It shot past Shepard's cheek so closely that it made her pull back and fall, crashing to the ground with another cry of agony. The flare burst into sparks above her, and as she lay there in desperation, she could swear she heard someone yelling for back up in the distance.

\--

The day after the memorial, Garrus had woken to the sound of the river outside, people shouting and rebuilding...and birds. It was a nice way to wake up, he decided, and though the empty patch of bed beside him felt a little bitter still, he got up and set back to work. He was outside, helping people find this or that, or managing a clean-up crew, and he was something like himself.

The day after the memorial, Garrus woke up to life again, and the day after that he felt a little better. He ate, slept, and got up in a distracting cycle of goodness until it was two weeks exactly since the war was won. And Shepard lost.

It was hard at first, like everything is, but it was familiar. It didn't take as much practice as he'd expected to get back into gear, and somewhere in the back of his mind he knew she'd be proud. This was the Garrus she'd fell in love with, so this is who he would remain. For her, forever.

Everyone was grateful to have him back, as well. With the Primarch too busy with the fleet and with the relays-which rumour said were being repaired successfully-there wasn't much time for him to command the help on Earth. So Garrus, with his honorary title which was somewhat real now, had his work cut out for him.

But he was working. And that's what mattered.

\--

EDI's body was laying on a slab in the medical lab of the Normandy. Down in the AI Core, Tali and the Normandy engineers were hard at work, and Joker was on his fourth cup of coffee. He refused to leave the ship since coming back onto it for Shepard's memorial. It had felt too right to be back, and in a world of chaos-on a planet he never really liked anyway-the Normandy bridge was the only place he felt safe. He had the visor's down, blocking out all but the gentle sun on the horizon, and he sat in his indented chair and hoped.

In his mind he kept running over worst-case-scenarios, regardless of the success so far at reanimating service mechs and tech. Maybe EDI would be offline forever, or until they could figure out what exactly the Crucible had done. That was the absolutely worst case. Maybe she would come online and remember nothing, and be shackled once again, and have to build back up to being something of a person. Joker could handle that, he thought. 

Or maybe she would reboot and be fine, but stuck in the ship like she had been before. Tali hadn't given EDI's body one look yet, and though it seemed unscathed on the outside, the damage inside could be worse.

Joker just wanted her back. In any way. If they were strangers once again, he figured he could handle it. If she was stuck in the ship, he figured he could find a way to make it work.

Because honestly? It had never been about her body.

When Tali wasn't with the engineers in the Core, she was out in the field handling this and that. The Quarians, though many of them had left the planet, were still very resourceful no matter their numbers. It was only Tali and Admiral Raan who had stayed behind to be in charge, with a little over a handful of support in London. Across the globe the numbers were similar, for all the races who had come to help, but with the final push having been centralized in England, the damage here was worse.

And it was hard to leave Joker like this. Tali had learned over the past few years that friends should come first, no matter what she had to do. No matter what was happening around her. She wanted to help. That was all she'd ever wanted, and the destruction of Earth was giving her that chance. But so was the destruction of EDI.

It was like a challenge, investigating the programming and support structures that had made EDI what she was. Tali had seen advanced AI's before, naturally, but whatever had happened with the Crucible was making reconstruction difficult. Two weeks and no one seemed to know anything about the Geth. Their ships just hovered in space, with no one brave enough or determined enough to board them.

The more advanced the tech, the harder it was to repair. Nothing was broken, exactly, just fried out, and with resources as bad as they were...

But Joker still counted on her. He tried not to pressure her or hover over her as she worked, but sometimes he just couldn't help but check in. They'd started working on this little project about three days after the power surged back on. There had been only minor fixes to EDI's programming since then, but Joker would wait as long as it took, and Tali was too determined to give up just yet.

She wanted to save  _someone_...

\--

There were always rumours, and Ashley heard many of them first. Being the only human Spectre now in existence, she was becoming a very important resource to the Alliance. Even with the galaxy in the state of chaos that it was in, her status gave her power beyond many others, and Admiral Hackett was grateful. After all, with Anderson and Shepard gone, someone had to step up to the plate. Ashley was beyond honoured to take up the challenge, if not incredibly saddened by the reasons.

"Sometimes it seems like a fluke," she told James one night as they huddled over data pads and colony maps. He would hover around her whenever he could, and she never complained. "I mean, here I am, never having been in command of anything, and they expect greatness?"

"Ah, they wouldn't have made you a Spectre if they didn't think you could handle it," James replied, and it made Ashley feel a little better.

The rumours, however, never lifted her spirits. They were just whispers in attempts to boost morale when the days seemed particularly long and hard. When the sun went down, and the emergency lighting dimly lit up the sky, gossip began. Some said there was a reaper spotted walking around the Indian coastline. Others claimed husks were still crawling out of the woodwork and starting to recall their human lives.

That particular rumour made Ashley shiver in the night to think about, but the one that pained her more was the rumour that Shepard lived.

It had been two weeks since the war ended, and in those two weeks it was astonishing to see the miracles that had already taken place. People were saved from the brink of death by ingenious repairs made by every race. Asari, Salarian, Quarian, Turian...even the Krogan! They all had something to offer the humans of Earth who had no one else to turn to. With the relays down, the other races had nothing to do either. Their only comfort was hearing vague messages through static coms that the other systems were working just as hard as the people on Earth.

But Shepard? Multiple scans of the dilapidated Citadel and Crucible came up with no life signs. The entire Citadel had been evacuated, and any who had stayed behind were either laying in piles of bodies, or floating somewhere in space. Shepard was, to Ashley's horror, in one of those categories.

Rumour had it that there were teams scanning the wreckage of the Citadel as well as the disasters on Earth, trying to find bodies to give families peace. But it was just another rumour.

\--

"Son of a bitch!" said one soldier as they rolled the body over. "Oh...oh my  _God!_ "

"You've got to be kidding me!" another helmeted soldier cried out as the entire search party crowded around the wounded woman on the ground. "I can't believe it...Call headquaters! Get Admiral Hackett on the com, now!"

Someone rushed off to do just that, while another man and woman hustled over with a medical kit. Omni-gel was slapped on here and there in a frenzied rush, and hands shook as they applied the aid.

"Is it really her?" the woman whispered as they worked. "How could she be alive?"

The injured person below them was breathing hoarsely, and her eyes opened and closed so slowly that no one could quite tell if she was blinking, or coming in and out of consciousness. She was a mess, but she was alive. They'd need more time to really diagnose her, but the sooner they got to a clinic the better.

The man applied more gel and shook his head. "Wait till they hear this..."

A high ranking soldier put his hand on the man's shoulder. "Not a word until we have confirmation," he said, looking down at the still body on the English country grass.

"What confirmation do you need?" the woman almost spat, looking up at the officer and shaking her head at him. "Everyone knows her face."

The officer looked darkly at the body one moment before walking away. "No one likes false hope," he said.

The two paramedic's cast each other a concerned glance before the sound of coughing alerted them. The woman on the ground was trying to sit up, but her body just wasn't ready to listen yet. "Stay calm," the man said, putting his hand over the N7 logo on the dirty armour.

The woman lifted her right arm and scraped desperately at her neck, reaching past the armour as if in search of something.

"Can she breath?" the woman paramedic asked, opening her omni-tool and doing yet another scan.

But it was unnecessary. The woman on the ground-who both paramedics now surely recognized-gripped something under her breastplate and yanked it forward. A flimsy chain broke, and in the woman's hands were Alliance dogtags. If they hadn't known before, they were positive now.

Commander Shepard handed her tags to the woman above her, who took them in awe. Shepard practically slapped the little metal things into the woman's outstretched palm, before falling back and closing her eyes in something like peace.

The woman looked across at the other paramedic with wide eyes, holding the tags like fragile little bugs.

The man just shook his head slowly as the rest of the team approached with a stretcher. "I wouldn't want them anymore either," he said.

\--

Sometimes it still felt like they were preparing for battle. Garrus went back and forth from one end of the Parlimant buildings to the other, always ducking past other people rushing about. Someone needed his opinion here or the Primarch wanted to talk to him there or someone needed this...It was hard to maintain everything in some semblance of control. Refugees needed support, but as did the clinics, and as did the recon teams travelling the globe and sorting things out.

The Alliance military outposts across Earth were all in the same boat as the one centred in London, but the commands came from here. And the business showed.

Sometimes the Normandy crew would run into each other. It was hard to stay in contact as friends when there was so much to do, but every now and then they would come across one another and cast some kind of smile. Sometimes there was small talk, sometimes nothing but a quick greeting. Most of the time, each member dealt with their own tasks while those around them idolized them.

Everyone had heard about the Normandy Crew. They were famous. They were heroes.

And they were intimidating.

Garrus sped down a hallway, making his way to the officer he'd assigned to help Liara at the hospital she'd taken over, when he realized that the whispers around him were not the usual sort. The eyes that fell on him didn't exactly show the awe or terror his name and presence regularly brought. Instead they were probing, searching his features for hints of he didn't know what.

"...not a chance after two weeks..."

"...stranger things have happened, man, I'm telling you I heard that the Commander's alive..."

Garrus stopped so suddenly that someone on his heels almost crashed into his back. They moved around him, and he backpeddled until he was standing in the doorway of a makeshift dorm. Two soldiers were changing out of their armour and into their fatigues as they spotted Garrus in the archway.

They both perked up and saluted, as if Garrus had any sway over them. "Vakarian, sir," one of them mumbled.

But Garrus couldn't even follow that with a wise crack or a chuckle. "What was that you were saying?" he asked, his voice almost harsh.

The soldiers looked at each other nervously a moment before one of them finally piped up. "Just...some rumours, sir. Alliance gossip on the coms."

"Such as?" Garrus asked, his voice deep and buzzing and low.

The other soldier bit his lip for a split second. "All sort of things, sir. But...mainly..." He cleared his throat. "Commander Shepard. Some people are saying-"

"Rumours don't help anyone," Garrus said, pointing a warning finger at the two of them. With no gloves on, his talons looked more threatening than he'd intended. "Best thing for everyone is to focus on what's  _really_ going on here."

"Yes sir," the other soldier said, casting a quick glare at his comrade. "Sorry, sir."

Garrus shook his head and walked off, letting the men catch their breath and fall onto their bunks. But it stuck with him. Rumours were just rumours, and even he knew there were a fair amount running around. He hadn't heard any about...about her, but with the ridiculous gossip he'd heard so far, it just couldn't be true.

Not after two weeks. Even Garrus had to accept that. They were only rumours...


	5. Lady Lazarus

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They wanted to keep this quiet and calm, and only so many people actually knew the truth. It would take time for the public to be ready for this news, but some people deserved to know now.

Liara had her arms crossed over her chest, with her head down and her eyes wide. If she was being honest, they were also slightly damp. She stood in the tiny office she'd commandeered in the old human hospital, looking at the cold tile floor as guards monitored the hall outside.

The only noise in the room was the distant beeps of heart monitors, and the hum of machines and lights.

"Are...you sure?" she finally asked, her voice quieter than usual. She couldn't bring herself to look up just yet, her mind was too busy processing the information she'd just been given.

"She's being held at a small clinic outside the city, but they don't have the equipment she needs," Admiral Hackett explained, staring at the asari as she kept her eyes away from him. "We're sure."

Another tense silence passed as Liara took deep breaths in and out slowly. "How many people know?"

"Enough," said the Admiral. "I'm sure you can understand why we're trying to keep this quiet for now."

She still kept her eyes on the ground, but she nodded slowly. "Is she unstable?"

"We wouldn't allow her to be moved if that were the case," Hackett explained. "From what we can tell so far, her cybernetic implants are mainly offline. The only ones seeming to respond properly are the ones keeping her main organs from shutting down. If we want her back in shape, she'll need a lot of care." He paused for a moment and sighed. "Could be really hit and miss for a while, and she needs better care."

Finally, at long last, Liara looked up. She inhaled sharp through her nose, clasped her hands behind her back, and faced the Admiral. "What is it you need me to do?"

Hackett managed to give her half a smile. "We'll need a room set up with strict access. We have one medical technician coming in with her who has been there from the start. We've also contacted one Miranda Lawson, who may be able to shed more light on the situation."

Liara nodded. "Yes. Miss Lawson was in charge of the original...project..."

"So we've learned," Admiral Hackett said with a nod. "As of yet we haven't gotten in contact with her, but when we do, we'll get her here fast. I came to you, Doctor, not just because of your history, but because of what you've accomplished so far in this aftermath."

"I'm flattered, sir," Liara said shakily. "But I cannot take all the credit."

"We understand that," he said. "But someone needs to be in charge of this until she gets back on her feet. I have a feeling she'd like it to be you."

Liara gave a tense nod and clenched her jaw against the raw emotions bubbling in her throat. She could think of a few other people better suited, but she was nevertheless honoured. "When should we expect her?" she asked, feeling something like butterflies spring into her stomach as she said 'her'. It felt hard to even think her name let alone refer to it.

"Tonight," Hackett said, looking out a small window to his left. "You'll have the day to set up, and we'll radio in when she's arriving. We'll need a path cleared, naturally, so I will allow you to bring two other physicians, nurses, or paramedics into this situation."

"How do we plan on keeping this hidden?" Liara asked.

"You leave that to us," said Hackett. "Your priority right now is getting ready for her arrival. The physician with her now will be sending you a report on her status and her needs. I expect you can have everything in order by nightfall."

"Yes, Admiral," Liara said. Her legs were shaking. She'd need to sit down in a moment.

"Good," Hackett nodded. "You'll hear from me tomorrow then." He turned with another short nod, but before he could get out the door and get back to his guards, Liara stopped him.

"Admiral Hackett," she said, coaxing him to turn back around. "I understand that you would like to keep this matter out of the public eye for now. But there are people...who would appreciate the knowledge that she's alright. That she's been found, even."

The Admiral sighed. "I'm aware of this, Doctor T'soni. However, we can't risk a security breach right now."

"Do you think her life is in danger?" Liara asked, almost bitterly. How anyone could have negative feelings towards her...

But Hackett shook his head. "Not from the public, but...no one likes false hope."

His words stung Liara, and he could visibly see her step back and falter a moment.

He sighed again. "We've contacted her mother," he admitted. "She's on her way here from a ship near Jupiter. She was helping at a colony on one of the moons there. But I believe I know who you're referring to." When Liara gave him a concerned look, he cracked a smile. "Rumours have a way of reaching even the busiest of ears. I'll grant you one...close acquaintance."

Liara gave something like a sigh of relief, or maybe happiness. "Thank you, Admiral," she said to his retreating form.

He smiled a little wider and cast her one more look over his shoulder. "You can alert him once you have everything ready." Liara gave him a tight smile as well. "Miracles do happen, Doctor."

The door opened and closed, and Liara watched him walk off with his guards, and she finally let the little tears in her eyes pool over her blue cheeks. She covered her face with her hands. "Thank the Goddess..."

\--

 _Emergency_. That's all she'd said. She hadn't even called him, it was just a simple message marked Urgent. When Garrus got messages from Liara, at least lately, he'd expected them to be about supplies or further refugees brought in that would need housing. But one small line? 

 _Emergency. Hospital_.

What was he supposed to do with that?

Immediately head to the hospital, that's what. Liara wasn't exactly one for cryptic messages, so if this was all he had to go on it must be important. When he arrived, Garrus rushed through a group of salutes, whispers, and shocked refugees until he reached the main lobby of the hospital. They'd done a good job cleaning it out and tidying it up, and the space was as sterile as it could get with all the extra bodies.

And it was busy. The last time Garrus had been here, the space wasn't quite as packed as it seemed to be now. The sun had just set, and blankets were being handed out to people who didn't have anywhere else to go. Already Garrus could see two small human children being tucked in on the floor by a tired looking mother.

He grabbed a nurse's arm and asked for Liara. She looked stressed and exhausted, but she pointed him in the right direction and he headed off. The hallways were just as hectic, and everywhere he went someone was shouting for something or bustling people around. Though he tended to tower over the people rushing about, it took Garrus a long time to spot Liara standing far down near an emergency exit.

When she spotted him, he could see her face shift from control to fear.

"Liara, what's happening?" he asked, coming to stand beside her as another doctor moved down the hall.

She gave him a rather serious glance. "We had a colony sent here for help. There was no room for them outside the city, and not enough resources to go around yet. Many of them are malnourished or injured."

Garrus sighed. "War goes on even after the fighting, huh," he said sadly.

Liara nodded solemnly. "Yes, it does."

"I'll start looking for places to put people who can leave the hospital's care," Garrus said, trying to help in any way he could. It was clear Liara wasn't handling this easily, and he knew she was prone to take on too much. "What else can I do while I'm here?"

But Liara was shaking her head, and people were yelling outside. "I didn't ask you to come just for the refugee's, Garrus."

"We're all set up in the--Garrus!" 

When he turned to face the small hall to his right, the familiar face there looked both shocked and happy. "Dr. Chakwas," Garrus said cheerfully in greeting. "I thought you were out in the field hospitals."

He held his hand out to her and she shook it warmly. "I came back for a..." She looked at Liara. "Specific matter. A matter I assume you are here for as well."

He frowned at her. "What do you mean?"

The emergency door suddenly burst open, and two paramedics came in with someone on a stretcher. Behind them, two armed soldiers filed in as well. An oxygen mask was placed across the wounded person's face, but other than the tubing it was bare. Liara moved aside, away from the side hall, and pushed Garrus aside as well. He stumbled back, and Liara barked a brisk and well thought out order to the paramedics. Dr. Chakwas launched into action as well, moving with the stretcher down the hall as if she was meant to be there.

But Garrus barely heard their voices.

The stretcher seemed to go past him in slow motion. His entire face went slack, and a strange hot shiver ran through his body.

Then the world sped up, and he wobbled as Liara said his name over and over again.

Someone was grabbing for his arm, but he was going down. People were holding him, grabbing him, and ushering him into a seat which he took gratefully.

It was...he saw that it was...

"Is he alright?" someone asked, their voice an echoey, distant thing to Garrus.

"He's fine," he heard Liara say. "He just needs a moment. The room is just down the hall, the last door on your left."

"Right. Thank you, Dr. T'soni."

Garrus was blinking over and over again, trying to register what he'd just seen. He didn't understand what was happening to his body, or to his mind, but after a moment of staying seated he started to realize what it all meant.

"That was..." he mumbled, sensing Liara standing over him. His jaw was loose, and he couldn't think. Was this shock? It had to be. He was a hardened military man, how could this put him into shock?

"It's not exactly how I wanted to break the news," Liara sighed. "I'm sorry, Garrus."

Very slowly, Garrus raised his head and looked up at her in a daze. "They found her," he said. It was both a question and a statement, and he needed confirmation.

Liara's very faint smile made his heart hammer in his chest. "They found her," she said. Her words made him exhale long and heavy, dropping his head almost between his knees. "She's somewhat unstable, so I've been told, but from the reports it appears that her cybernetics kept her in some semi-coma, only waking her once initial repairs had been made."

"I don't want to hear that," Garrus said, launching into a wobbly standing position. "Let me see her."

Liara held her hands out and tried to force him back down. "You should sit, Garrus. You've had a shock."

"I'm fine," he snapped at her, staring down into her eyes as they pleaded with his own. He shook his head curtly. "Let me see her," he said again, but one step forward had him reeling back towards the wall, and Liara coaxed him down into his seat as someone came around the corner.

"She's settled," said a woman with light brown hair tucked high into a bun. "Oh, apologies. Are you sure he's alright?"

Liara gave a short nod, but she turned to Garrus for the real answer. She knew he'd never say he wasn't alright, at least not out loud, and not that bluntly. But she assumed all he needed was to sit down.

"I got it," he said, looking first at Liara and then the new face.

She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and gave Liara a look. "Does he have clearance?"

Liara nodded. "Yes. This is...the patients...um..." She looked at Garrus, who in turn gave her just as absent as a look.

The other woman nodded and gave a soft smile. "I understand, no need to explain. I'm Dr. Lawrence. I'm the physician that was initially assigned to the patient."

Garrus just silently stared at Dr. Lawrence as if she were a miracle worker, and Liara cleared her throat. "How bad is the damage?"

"Well, nothing compared to the fact that she spent two years dead," said Lawrence, lifting up the data pad in her hands and clicking through a few files. "From what we can tell, her cybernetic implants were so advanced that they kept her stable until there was nothing more they could do. They seemed to keep her in some sort of paralysis until a diagnosis of the damage was complete. Once the worst wounds were contained, one of the implants by her heart seemed to release pure Adrenaline."

Garrus sighed and put his head between his knees again. Dr. Lawrence gave Liara a concerned look, but she just waved the worry away.

Dr. Lawrence swallowed and continued. "I'm amazed by how much of her body is still organic, but the implants are important. We didn't have the equipment necessary to bring all her cybernetics back online, and many of them are damaged due to her coma. She is awake now, though heavily sedated."

Garrus lifted his head and stood in a huff, making Dr. Lawrence step swiftly back. She was a very short woman, and he could have crushed her if he wanted to. "Does that mean she can take visitors?"

Liara stared between the polar opposite people before her, watching as Dr. Lawrence began to sweat. "She is sedated," she explained, "as I said. But I...don't see any problems with you going in to see her. At least for a ti-wait!"

But Garrus was already off. Dr. Lawrence tried to follow him but Liara kindly took her attention and started grilling her on the status of this or the gear for that. The guards that had come in with her now stood outside the room, waiting to be dismissed or waiting to be challenged. As Garrus neared the door, he could hear the whir and click of medical equipment being set up, and soon the two paramedics left the room and breezed past him.

Dr. Chakwas met him at the door. 

"I had a feeling Liara would call you," she said, staring up at him with a smile in her eyes. He tried to give the same look back but he was too anxious, too tense. "She's sleeping peacefully, and breathing on her own for the most part." And then she stepped aside. "Go on in."

Dr. Chakwas walked past Garrus and left him standing in the doorway. When she moved, Garrus got a clear view of the hospital bed, and the woman who rested in it.

Her hair was down, pooling around her head and across the pillow. He could see cuts and scraps and scars across the skin that was exposed over the blankets. Her eyes were closed, but she looked at ease. You'd never know she'd been something close to dead for two weeks. He took an unsteady step into the room, feeling the door slide shut behind him.

"Spirits," he breathed. Then he blinked and looked down at the ground. "Spirits? Making me regress here..." His mumblings made him feel somewhat more at ease, though his heart was beating hard in his chest, and when his eyes came back up he just felt broken.

"Look at you," he said softly, working his way towards the bed slowly but surely. "Didn't think you'd do it, huh. You were so sure...that...you'd never make it." Garrus finally came to stand beside the bed, looking down at her as if she were a ghost. As if this were a dream. He was so scared for some reason, like this would all vanish in a moment. But he wanted to laugh out loud from pure joy.

Tentatively, he reached out and took her hand in his. She was warm, and he finally let out a little breathy chuckle. "I said I'd be waiting for you," he whispered, sitting on the edge of the bed and holding her hand tight.

"Shepard..." Garrus sighed and leaned a little closer. "...Anna. I don't know what the whole sedative situation is like but...I hope you can hear me. I want you to know that I'm here." He gave her hand a little squeeze. "It's so good to see you." Garrus lifted her hand to his mouth, and placed as much of a kiss as he could manage on her skin.

The monitors beeped, and Shepard breathed calmly, and the door behind him slid aside.

"I'm not leaving," he said before anyone could suggest otherwise.

Dr. Lawrence gave a little sigh. "You can't stay here the whole time, though."

"Yes I can," Garrus said, keeping his eyes on the woman he thought he'd lost. Again. "And I will. Until she wakes up and tells me otherwise."

Liara chuckled. "Well we know the latter would never happen," she said. "But Garrus. Others need you."

"They'll manage," he said stiffly. He looked over his shoulder. "I'm not going. I'll put a cot in here if I have to. And before you panic, Doctor," he added, casting a glance at Dr. Lawrence. "I'll be out of everyone's way and quieter than...what...that human saying."

"A mouse," Dr. Lawrence said, though her face spoke volumes of how unsure she was of this.

Garrus nodded and turned back around. "Sure, that."

Liara turned to the doctor and shrugged her shoulders. "An army couldn't take him from this room. And he's authorized to be here. He's one of the best people to have standing by I'd say."

Dr. Lawrence gave a nod. "I'll allow it, of course. Protocol is out the window in this topsy turvy world." She gave a barely there chuckle and headed out of the room, leaving Liara standing by the door, hovering over Garrus and his lady love. He held her hand, and Shepard slept, and for once in the past two weeks, everything seemed simple.


End file.
